Musing
by Snapecake
Summary: Our beloved but feared potion master is musing in the night.*finished short story*


Author: Snapecake  
  
Title: Musing  
  
Summary: Our beloved but feared potion master is musing in the night.  
HG/SS romance  
  
Disclaimer: The whole Potter universe with all its inhabitants belong to the marvelous  
lady JK Rowling. (Though I would love to borrow Snape from  
her.*grin*.)  
  
Rating: G  
  
A/N: Euh.more or less the result of musing during a restless night. Hope you like it! Please feel free to tell me by reviewing! Would love that actually! _____________________________________________________________  
  
Ofcourse it had all started when he had first seen her.  
  
It was easy to dig up the vivid memory from the depths of his brain. For a second his thoughts lingered on the events of that important meeting.  
  
He had not noticed her as his attention was fully occupied by the arrival of the Potter boy. Only until the sorting began his eyes met with her little figure. As their eyes briefly met he recognized the spark in her eyes. It had told him she was a highly intelligent girl with an unstoppable hunger for knowledge.  
  
A very faint smile had played around his lips as he had thought his evening wouldn't have been wasted entirely. She would make a great Slytherin.  
  
She became a Gryffindor. The house he loathed most had deprived him of a presumed star student. After shooting some hate filled looks at the Gryffindor table, during which he only managed to exchange looks with the irritating Potter boy, he had left.  
  
Still he had kept an eye on her. Not for romantically reasons. Her plain looks didn't affect him in any way. Her mind on the contrary, did.  
  
Already during his first lesson she had showed him how much knowledge she already held. Only the fact that she was sitting next to mister Famous had prevented him from acting properly upon it. He had thought he would find a moment to sit down with her and have a decent conversation with her, even though she was in the wrong house.  
  
That moment had never come during all the years she had been a student at Hogwarts. Always there seemed to be something in the way.  
  
The biggest obstacle being her friendship with the celebrated brat and his vacant looking friend. The evening the troll rummaged Hogwarts she had defended the two boys and he had been outraged with her behavior. For over a month he had tried to punish her for it by taking housepoints whenever he could.  
  
By the end of the first year he had realized that her thirst for knowledge wasn't affected at all by the friendship. And she had solved his potionsriddle in order to enable Potter boy defending the philosopher's stone. Actually he had been proud, but had taken great care for nobody to notice.  
  
After that summer break he had continued his search for the borders of the possibilities of her mind. But every time he had thought he was about to reach them he was proven wrong. He had kept annoying her with detailed questions to see how she would deal with it. Ofcourse she did a great job.  
  
She had kept handing in accurate homework assignments, but he had always managed to find something he could put a finger on. Not, as she had obviously been thinking, because he liked to annoy her, but because he had wanted her to perfect her qualities. And by the rising standard of her work he had known she had taken on the challenge.  
  
Sometimes he had followed her as she was sneaking through the hallways with the two boys. Just out of curiosity for her behavior. The annoying claiming fame boy had been thinking it was because of him that his potions teacher had followed him.  
  
But with every day that passed the possibility of a normal conversation with her seemed to slide away further from his grasp. There just didn't seem to be a way out of the bog of unkindness he had created. And as he had watched the potentials of her mind grow, he noticed her Gryffindor-like behavior kept in pace with it. Slowly his interest had started to fade and had been replaced by irritation over what he could not have. He had known he was projecting this feeling on the girl and made her suffer for it, but it had mattered less to him every day.  
  
He had seen her growing dislike for him, but he had never cared for that. It had been all about a brilliant mind and not about any form of liking each other.  
  
So during her third year she was merely an annoying know-it-all at whom he had sneered. Out of habit he had kept teasing her with knowledge and she had happily accepted the bait, annoying him with the tremendous workload she did for his subject.  
  
Then her fourth year arrived and because of all the uproar with the competition he had almost lost complete interest in the girl. Only when the goblet had spilled the extra name of her friend his mind had briefly registered her worries about the boy. He had scowled at her for doing so.  
  
And then the Yule ball had been held and she had walked in with that Victor person.  
  
He remembered sitting next to Dumbledore who was just telling him some odd story. At first he had hardly recognized her until the headmaster had smiled and muttered: "Well, little Hermione is growing up fast." He had sneered at the word little and had moved back to his own seat. Still, from beneath his eyelids he had kept following her appearance swirling round the Great Hall. An annoying feeling had crept up from nowhere and settled in his stomach. He had ruled the feeling out by labeling it as fear for the boy she was dancing with, who might take away his brilliant student.  
  
Though he had intended on keeping a closer eye on her from that moment on, the whole triwizard thing and the aftermath had consumed his attention completely. And suddenly it had been summer break and Dumbledore had needed him more than ever.  
  
He hadn't been thinking about her until she had opened the door for him at number twelve Grimmauld Place. Exhausted of a meeting with Death Eaters he had almost fallen into her arms. Without a words she had helped him into the kitchen. He had felt tremendously irritated with her being there and seeing him like this. Especially as he thought he had seen a hind of pity into her eyes. It had caused them to sit there practically side by side without uttering one word to each other. Then Mrs. Weasley had walked in, almost dragging him to Dumbledore.  
  
Her fifth year had been as much as a blur to him. Strangely enough the only moment he had taken time to follow her and the two dreadful boys around the corridors he had overheard her defending him. He had stopped death in his tracks and had kept starring at their backs until they had disappeared around the corner.  
  
But then duty had swept him off his feet and he had only found time to think of the strange girl again when the OWLS had started. It had proven impossible not to think about her as most of the examiners where talking about her great results. He had felt proud when he heard professor Marchbanks claiming she had done the best potion he had seen in years.  
  
After he had caught a few glances of her after the Voldemort-appearing-in- the-Ministry-of-Magic-incident the holidays had started again and she had gone.  
  
As he had been the only teacher who stayed over at the summer break, he had been the first to learn the OWL results from the headmaster. Ofcourse hers had been brilliant. A result which had affected him in a strange way, far beyond pride.  
  
The usual welcoming speech Dumbledore had done during her sixth year stood out, because of all the more or less hidden warnings in them. He distinctly remembered she had frowned and shot worried looks at the two boys next to her during the speech. He also remembered his own irritation as he noticed. And as she had glanced his way while the dinner continued, he had given her his foulest look.  
  
When the expected attack on Hogwarts finally came, it had been the first time he had really noticed her apart from teaching her potions. She had been prefect for the Gryffindor house again and had guided a group of highly impressed first year students into the Great Hall. She had been about the only responsible person of her age that had kept calm during the evacuation.  
  
As all students had been brought into the Great Hall, professor Dumbledore had left him in charge over the safety of the children, while the headmaster and the other teachers had left for the battle. The only threat had come from two Death Eaters trying to get in through one of the windows. Knowing he could only take them one at the time he had stepped towards the invaders. Not until they had both spoken the same curse and had knocked both Death Eaters out, he had realized she had been the only student that had gotten up to help him.  
  
Still when he closed his eyes he could see the concentrated look in her brown eyes and the tired smile around her lips as she had looked up at him. He had nodded curtly at her, but somewhere deep inside of him a feeling of appreciation had woken up and had failed to go back to slumber after the incident.  
  
Even when the ball to celebrate the fact everybody had survived the attack had come, and he had seen her dancing the whole evening with the red head Weasley boy, his interest in the girl had been unable to be stopped. Her dancing partner had suffered for his love for her during his classes though.  
  
Another summer break had announced itself and had taken her away from his view. This time he hadn't even caught a glimpse of her during all those weeks. He had felt strangely irritated by the fact, but the spying had absorbed his attention so completely he didn't have time to think it over.  
  
Her last year at Hogwarts had been one bathed in turmoil. Several attacks on the school, some designed to tear down the whole school others to take out the headmaster or the Potter boy, had been laughed and had taken its toll out of everybody.  
  
Still she had been able to find time to study for her NEWTs. He had watched her from a distance and had been utterly contend with her work, even though she had been a Gryffindor. By this time he had noticed his own odd interest in the girl, but still had kept putting it down to her brilliant mind which exceeded all other students by far.  
  
He had proved himself wrong at the graduation ball. It had not been only her mind that had made him follow her so closely lately. As she had walked into the Great Hall realization had hit him. He had watched her slender figure enveloped by stunning classical black velvet and had felt his blood turning into ice. This had never happened to him before but he had recognized it immediately. Somewhere along the line things had changed.  
  
But further thoughts had been torn apart by the entering of Voldemort and the battle which had followed. In the midst of the battle she had stood beside him with a determined face. Together they had fought off a great deal of Death Eaters, and until the moment the Potter boy had vanquished his mighty opponent; they had been side to side. Both of them had, as by miracle, come out of the battle with but a few superficial cuts. Others had suffered worse and in their search for those they had got parted.  
  
He had not seen her again until they both, together with some other Hogwarts teachers and students, had been presented with the order of Merlin, first class. But while he had wondered whether to speak to her or not, he had overheard her conversation with Ron Weasley. It had become obvious that she would leave the country and study at a renowned university in France. His blood had turned to ice once more.  
  
The following year at Hogwarts had seemed to be appallingly devoid of any sharp-minded students. He had worked as steadily as ever, but perhaps his mood was even cloudier than before.  
  
He had decided not to speak to her about the disturbing feeling that seemed to have settled in his stomach. Afterwards he had felt contend with it, as it had been the easiest way out. No feelings had been hurt and he hadn't made a fool out of himself. He kept repeating this like a mantra to himself and as the days passed the sharp edge of it had worn away.  
  
Another boring year full of empty-headed students succeeded the first. And once again another followed that one. Ofcourse he had kept hearing things about her through the years. Somehow these little signs had always come at the moment he had thought the feeling had vanished. But as soon as he had heard her name mentioned, it came back as vivid as ever.  
  
And then, after for years, everything had changed. By the end of the fourth summer break after her leaving Hogwarts, it had all begun. As he had been preparing for a new potion a soft knock on the classroom door had torn his concentration apart. While shooting his foulest look to the person entering he had already opened his mouth to let out a reprimand. But as his eyes met with the sight of her walking in, he had pressed his lips together.  
  
They had a short but friendly conversation during which she had told him she would be the new Arithmancy teacher. He had nodded in approval, causing her to raise an elegant eyebrow.  
  
She had turned into a beautiful young lady without losing her interest for facts. A combination he had thought to be fatal as he had looked at her during dinner that evening.  
  
With her being so close everyday his interest had been fed like oil to a fire. He had started attending every meal in the Great Hall as she had done the same. They would often share facts with each other during dinner. Ofcourse she had turned into the most prized teacher by the students in no time. "Firm but just" he had heard a fifth year mumble.  
  
Just before Christmas he finally had found the right time for the serious conversation about he knowledge he had been planning to have, ever since she had started at Hogwarts. She had come down to the dungeons and had been seated next to him in the high armchairs in front of the fire. While gently nipping from the vintage ruby port he had given her, they had talked. First the conversation had been mainly about knowledge and their mutual hunger for it, but slowly it had become more personal.  
  
She had narrated about her years at Hogwarts and how she had looked upon every teacher. She had frankly said what she had thought about him, but kindly added he seemed to be so very different as a colleague. She had spoken about her friendship with the two boys and her relation with Ron. As it appeared they had broken up just a few weeks ago.  
  
And somewhere deep inside of him hope came out of its hiding place.  
  
For the first time in his life he spoke of being a Death Eater and the why he did it. About the spying with all its dangers and the torture he had suffered. He spoke of his change of mind and handing himself over to Dumbledore. He told her about teaching at Hogwarts and his love for Potions.  
  
After this they had become close, much to the surprise of the other teachers. Soon enough she had noted that his change in behavior only concerned her. Towards the others he still appeared as the bad tempered potion master.  
  
Somehow he had kept searching for her company, like a moth to a flame. He had almost given in to the fact that they would only be friends when he had found her sitting by the lake on a lazy summer evening.  
  
As he had seated himself next to her, she had edged closer to him. He had noticed a small leaf stuck in her hair and had carefully took it out. Somewhere during this process their eyes locked.  
  
Severus Snape stopped his musing and carefully turned to his other side. The moonlight shone through the window onto his bed. Silently he stretched out his arm and followed with his finger the contours of the face of the woman sleeping next to him. A vague smile played round his lips. He had waited so long.  
  
While looking at her sleeping form he realized one last thing.  
  
He loved her.  
  
His Hermione Granger.  
  
After all this time.  
  
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